

CHAPTER ONE
Peaceful, Indiana, May 1901
Men. The bane of Elise Langley’s life.
In her frilly bedroom papered in rose sprigs, windows draped with eyelet, her childhood retreat, Elise swooped up her eleven-month-old daughter from her crib. Chubby legs pumping, Katie grinned down at her, drool slipping off her chin.
“Be glad you’re a girl, Katie Marie. Men aren’t dependable.”
Elise would never tell this precious child that her father, a no-good sweet talker with the morals of a mouse, had deceived her. Her heart squeezed. Not that Elise had been innocent. Far from it. Still, she’d been a fool. Once Gaston heard about the baby, he’d vanished, leaving her to face the consequences alone.
Inhaling her daughter’s fresh scent, Elise snuggled the main consequence in her arms. The months before Katie’s birth had been difficult but they’d also brought Doctor David Wellman into her life. She’d believed David loved her. Loved Katie. Instead he’d tromped on her heart with his size-eleven shoes.
After months of courting, pretending to care, David had fled Peaceful in the dead of night, merely tacking a note on the office door, telling his patients to seek medical help from his partner Jeremiah Lucas.
And not one word to her.
What did it matter? Hadn’t Elise learned to count only on herself and God?
A lump closed off her throat and she swallowed convulsively. She may have had her heart broken—twice—but God had brought good from the mess she’d made of her life with a remarkable gift. “I loved you before you were born,” she told her baby girl. But now...
Katie was her world. More than enough.
Lord, I pray Katie is never abandoned. Never hurt. That she’ll have security and happiness always.
The same happiness and security her best friends Callie and Jake had found in each other. Jake had renewed Callie’s old Victorian house, as he had Callie, the young widow who had opened her home and her heart to unwed mothers. Callie and Jake had been her rock in the storm, supporting Elise when others whispered and shunned her.
A month ago, Jake and Callie had asked her and David to stand up with them at their wedding. An honor Elise had been thrilled to accept. Now, with David gone, abandoning her and his patients the past three weeks, maybe forever, she’d lost the joy of their wedding.
At breakfast, she’d talked to her mother about giving Callie and Jake a reception. Though Sarah Langley had cautioned Elise about taking on more responsibilities, she’d offered to pay expenses, the one obstacle Elise hadn’t known how to handle. A party would give Elise something to focus on, something to take her mind off David. She’d reserve the hall today.
Why, if David didn’t show up for the wedding, nothing would make her happier.
# # #
The sun shot rays of light into David Wellman’s office, shouting the start of a new day and grating against his every nerve.
With the soft flutter of closing pages, David set his Bible aside and leaned back in his chair, scrubbing at his face. His eyes felt gritty, as if sifted with sand. He hadn’t shaved. He hadn’t eaten. He hadn’t slept. But he was back.
Like a toddler seeking comfort from a cherished blanket, he’d returned to Peaceful, hoping that would somehow ease the pain searing his chest. Nothing could.
Even as he believed the town’s name ridiculous, he clung to its claim. And to God. Yet Scripture that normally brought him solace did not penetrate his grief. God felt far away. Detached. Unresponsive. Even as the lifeblood of a young, vibrant mother had flowed out of her.
An urge to rail at his Maker snaked through him, adding another brick of guilt to the staggering load he carried.
Lord, help me.
Tears stung his eyes. The time for God’s help had passed.
Across the room, the medical tomes he’d studied, valued, even trusted now merely mocked him. All that knowledge, all he’d learned in medical school, hadn’t saved his sister and her baby.
Swiping at his eyes, he stumbled to his feet. He should take the note off the door. See patients. Do something.
With a sigh, he dropped to his seat. Tomorrow.
He would tomorrow.
Why pretend? Sick patients were the last people he wanted to see. Should see. For their sakes more than his.
He glanced at the calendar on his desk, a date circled in red ink leapt out at him. May eighteenth. Callie and Jake’s wedding day.
Life goes on. For others. Not for Jillian, his precious sister. David’s hands fisted as anger billowed up inside of him, resentment at the unfairness of it all.
Then he released a shuddering sigh. Jake and Callie deserved happiness. He’d wanted to surprise his friends with a reception, had rented the hall days before he got the wire and raced to his sister’s bedside. Then he’d forgotten his plan.
With the wedding a week away, he should nail down particulars though the mere idea exhausted him. What did hosting a party involve? Tables and chairs. People would expect food.
Lord, I need help planning this.
Not just with planning the party, with...everything.
If only he had a few more days to get his mind around what had happened. No matter how often he thought about each detail of those nightmarish hours, he couldn’t accept he’d failed.
Failed his sister. Failed her child.
Regret pierced his soul, swirling in his chest, the pain as sharp and fresh as if he were back to that first night.
The longing to give up—to stay in this chair forever—washed over him. With sheer strength of will, he lunged to his feet. He had to move forward. Do what needed doing.
As he headed out, he passed the surgery room. He paused by the cabinet, his gaze roaming bottles of medicine, scissors and scalpels glistening in the sunlight.
Once he had believed in those medicines and instruments. Believed in his ability as a doctor. But then he had sat by his sister’s bedside, performed surgery and watched her die. His medicines, his instruments, his hands of no use. Those bottles and instruments promised cures when David knew the truth.
Some things couldn't be cured. Some people couldn't be saved. Some people couldn't be forgiven. Like him.
He shut the door and walked away. He would sever his ties with Elise once and for all, before she fell any deeper into the trap of believing in his ability to save anyone. Even himself.
# # #
Saturday afternoon Elise and Katie greeted Flossie Twite at her desk in the cramped office of Twite Hall. Rundown shoes planted wide apart, cotton stockings sagging at the ankle, blue dress faded, Flossie looked deprived, like she belonged on the receiving end of a soup line. But she owned this building and a couple others in town and gave generously to church and nearly every cause.
With Flossie’s love of gab, getting to the point could take half the day. Elise hurried to say, “My parents and I want to give Callie and Jake a reception after their wedding Saturday. I’m here to reserve the hall.”
“I can’t wrap my mind around Commodore Mitchell being Jake’s daddy. This town hasn’t seen that much drama since the natural gas boom,” Flossie said.
As long as she lived, Elise would never forget that horrible day Callie’s husband and Commodore’s other son, Martin, died in a fall off his roof.
“Why, I remember Commodore as a little tyke living next door to Sheriff Fredrick’s grandparents. They used to yell at Commodore for cutting through their yard, then must’ve felt bad ‘cause they’d give him a nickel.”
“About the hall...”
“Oh, yes.” Flossie pulled the ledger close. “If memory serves me right, and it usually does, Doc Wellman already rented the hall for that night.”
Elise’s head snapped up. She gaped at Flossie. “David reserved the room? Why? When?”
“For the Mitchell reception.” Flossie ran a finger down the page. “He put money down April fourteenth.”
Mere days before David left town. Well, David might be Jake’s best man, but he wasn’t best for handling the party. His disappearing act proved he couldn’t be counted on, obviously too busy and undependable for the job.
She wouldn’t let his negligence impact Callie and Jake. “I’ll oversee the party in Doctor Wellman’s absence.”
“Can’t imagine why Doc left town like he did. You know what’s going on?”
Fussing with Katie’s bonnet, Elise avoided the woman’s probing eyes. “No.”
“If a man courted me for months then vanished like dew on a summer morning, I’d hire me a detective.” Flossie wagged a finger at Elise, as if she expected her to do that very thing.
What would that prove? That David had lost interest? Had finally realized she wasn’t fit to be a doctor’s wife?
“Why, I heard tell of a man who had himself three wives.” She snorted. “Imagine the particulars that man had to carry in his head to keep all those women and children straight. Don’t believe that of David Wellman, of course. He’s my doctor. Doctor to most folks in this town.”
“He was the doctor.”
Flossie flapped a hand. “I’m not crazy about the new doc. He suggested I get help running this place. As if I’m too old to manage. Ever hear anything sillier? I gave him a piece of my mind. Along with a remedy for colds my grandma swore by. Honey, chamomile and garlic, kept it in a fruit jar in the cabinet and spooned it into me at the first sniffle.”
Imaging Doctor Lucas’s reaction, Elise bit back a smile. “You could run this place and half the town. Doctor Lucas just doesn’t know that yet.”
“Dang tooting.”
“About the hall...”
“Oh, yes, yes.” She checked the book again. “If you got a hankering to decorate like most folks, the place is yours. Party paraphernalia is in the storage room across the hall.”
“Thank you.”
“The last group didn’t leave things clean. Expect you to do better. Know you will. Why, you’re a mama. You got to be responsible.” Flossie grabbed her purse. “Need to leave. I’ll post a note on the door, case someone comes looking for me.”
Apparently notes on doors were the favored mode of communication in this town.
As Elise headed to the storage room, she noted the dusty footprints on the floorboards. She couldn’t put Katie down anywhere until she’d swept and mopped.
Inside she located a box of supplies, mostly candle stubs and silk flowers that had seen better days. Along the back wall, shelves held dozens of glass candleholders dribbled with wax, unwashed vases and jumbled piles of tablecloths and napkins—thankfully clean but needing pressing.
Katie’s hand darted out, grabbing the cotton, almost pulling off a stack of linens. “No-no, Katie,” Elise admonished as she plied her daughter’s fingers lose. “Mama doesn’t have time to wash them too.”
With a firm grip on the box and another on her squirming daughter, Elise dragged the container into the main room, and then dropped into a chair at one of the tables. As she made a list of chores, she tucked her wiggling daughter close, swaying from side to side. Katie’s mouth opened in a yawn and her eyelids drifted closed.
Elise couldn’t do much today. She’d pay the bride a visit. See Callie’s wedding dress. Share in her friend’s happiness.
Life was perfect just as it was. With David gone. Out of her and Katie’s life. Elise couldn’t be happier.
Sudden tears stung her eyes. Tears of...joy for Callie. Or so she told herself.
# # #
Elise.
David sucked in a breath. For a moment he thought his eyes deceived him. As if she were a mirage he’d conjured up.
But no, she was real.
The sight of her banged against his heart. As she rocked Katie, tendrils of her copper curls danced at her nape. She never looked more beautiful.
To see sweet Katie, healthy and strong filled him with the deep throbbing pain of regret that could only be soothed by this baby and her mother. Oh, how he’d missed them.
Yet he couldn’t have them. Not when his own sister and her child died under his care. The truth trampled his heart, grinding that razor-edged truth into every cell, every particle of his being.
As he stepped into the room, Elise dropped her pen and lurched to her feet. Jolted awake, Katie howled, then babbled a baby welcome and reached chubby arms to David, as if he needed no forgiveness.
With everything in him, he fought the yearning to gather mother and child into his arms. Not that Elise would allow it. The wary, distant look in her eyes shut him out, told him he was an outsider, separated by a wall of distrust he wouldn’t scale.
“You’re back.” She knelt beside a box, staring inside as if she found the contents fascinating.
“I, ah, planned to check on a few things for the reception, but Flossie’s not at her post.”
“No need to bother. After a three weeks’ absence, I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll handle everything.”
Wasn’t that what he’d prayed for?
The temptation to agree rose inside of him. He didn’t have the energy for anything, much less planning a party, especially when holding Elise at arms’ length would take everything he had.
Stretching over her mother’s arms, Katie almost disappeared inside the container as Elise slipped a bouquet of silk posies past her inquisitive daughter. A tiny hand darted out and grabbed a blossom, clutching it in a chubby fist.
Katie was adorable but a handful. Elise had to manage her daughter and a fulltime job. Nothing required his attention. “I want to do my part.”
“Your recent conduct proves you’re unreliable.”
That icy tone shredded the weakening grip on his control. He wanted to tell her about Jillian, should tell her, but couldn’t speak the words.
Her gaze flared with something bordering on concern. “You look...awful. Apparently your getaway didn’t agree with you.”
A wave of nausea swept over him. He swallowed hard.
At his silence, the soft concern he’d seen in her eyes hardened. “I’m surprised you didn’t mention renting the hall. As Callie’s bridesmaid, I expected to be included in any plans.”
“I ah, intended to tell you, but we were overrun with patients and I forgot.”
“Always the absentminded doctor,” she said softly.
Their gazes locked. The questions he read in her eyes made him look away.
“I’d prefer handling the party without your interference. I’m sure once you have time to think about it, you’ll be relieved to have the responsibility off your hands.”
He stiffened. She was getting back at him for leaving without an explanation. As if he’d had time to do more than scribble a note to his patients and grab a change of clothes.
Who was he kidding? In the weeks since Jillian’s death, he could’ve contacted Elise, sent a telegram or letter. Some things were too horrible to talk about. Even with her.
With a shaky hand, he plowed through the hank of hair falling across his forehead. If he explained how he failed his sister, Elise would be grieved for him, for his family. With her compassionate nature, she’d insist on comforting him. How could he stay away from her then?
Rosebud lips in a determined line, Katie jerked her entire body and parted the flower from the stem, then tossed the bloom to the floor. With a squeal, she shoved both hands into the bouquet. As the stems swayed, she clapped dimpled hands.
David retrieved the flower. When had Katie learned that trick? Gone three weeks and he’d missed so much. “Looks like you could use help.” He dropped the bloom on the table. “We can work on the party together.”
Elise turned to him, her dark eyes as unyielding as granite, cutting through the numbness inside, awakening his resolve. “You’re stuck with me,” he said.
Mother and daughter faced him. Auburn hair, pert noses, much alike, both beautiful. “I suppose I have no choice.” Elise’s words as sharp as a surgeon’s scalpel.
A lump wedged in his throat. As much as her poor opinion of him hurt, her anger made stepping away possible. She saw his absence as abandonment when he wanted only to protect her. His silence now added to the wound. In time, her pain would fade, leaving no more than a faint scar, a reminder to avoid the David Wellmans of this world.
“I’m glad that’s settled.” Unable to remain in her presence another minute without gathering her into his arms, he glanced at the door, then back to her. “I need to...to get organized.”
Elise flinched as if he’d slapped her. “Fine, I’ll be here Monday after work, if you’re still determined to help.”
With a nod, he strode out of the room, feeling her eyes on his back, eyes no doubt shooting darts. In his entire life, he’d never felt more like a snake. A snake Elise would no doubt like to skin.
Copyright © 2011 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited. ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher.
© 2011 Janet Dean